


Welcome to Hell

by wantingdreamsnotreality



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wantingdreamsnotreality/pseuds/wantingdreamsnotreality
Summary: Blaire Abbott has lived the majority of her adult life trying to provide for her mother, continuously working multiple jobs in order to ensure her mother's happiness. In doing so, Blaire has neglected her own happiness, a fact that her best friend often points out. Blaire longs for the days when life was much simpler, but doesn't allow herself to linger on such thoughts, knowing that those days have long since passed. That's why, when Blaire arrives unexpectedly in the Devildom, she has concluded to let go of all of her inhibitions, for once.
Relationships: Beelzebub & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thank you for choosing this story to read. This first chapter gives a brief insight to my main character, Blaire. The Obey Me! characters will not be in this first chapter, but never fear...they will soon make their appearance. I hope that you enjoy this chapter and will choose to continue giving this fic a chance. I apologize for any grammatical issues that may occur. Comments and Kudos are much appreciated!

She could feel the blood pulsing in her head to the rhythm of the bass booming from the club’s speakers and let out a deep sigh; sending out a quick prayer that another migraine wasn’t making an appearance. She then slung the rag that she was using to wipe down the bar over her shoulder and made her way towards the petite blonde who was waving her over. 

“Another apple martini?” Blaire asked. 

The blonde looked her up and down before flashing a lopsided smile. “Yes,” She slurred, “And, your number.” 

Blaire’s eyes followed the arm that was draped across the blonde’s shoulder to a man who had a puzzled look in his eye. “Sure,” She said, quickly grabbing a napkin and scribbling her digits on it before sliding it to the girl. “I get off at 3,” She added with a wink. 

The man’s arm slipped off the girl’s shoulder as his eyes danced between the two women. Then, a visible light bulb seemed to go off as he stretched his lips into a sickening smile. “I think the three of us would get off swimmingly.” 

“Sorry,” Blaire quickly responded, “I only ‘get off’ with one person at a time.” 

The blonde seemed to consider this, glancing between the two, before saying, “I think I’m gonna to choose her.”

The man sneered and muttered “Bitches” under his breath as he stood and stormed out of the club. 

Blaire leaned across the bar towards the other woman and snickered, “Tell me Layla, how is it that you pick up the most dashing people?” 

Layla shrugged, “It’s a gift.” Blaire turned away to make the blonde’s drink and slid it to her. “You’re really off at 3?” Layla asked 

Blaire frowned and rested her elbows on the bar top, her fingers finding her temples and rubbing them, “Yeah, and unfortunately, this pounding headache is not going to make the hours fly by.” 

Layla stared at the woman in front of her. Blaire was a tall lady with curves accentuating in all the right places. Her hair had a mind of its own, never knowing when to be completely curly or just slightly wavy, the only thing it knew for sure was that frizz was always in. Her dark brown (almost black) locks were always tied at the top of her head as Blaire never made the time to coax it into submission, instead preferring to sleep just a couple more minutes of sleep. Her chocolate eyes, which used to be bright with life, have now dulled as she has aged, with dark circles resting slightly below. 

“Blaire,” Layla gently began, “I really think that you should take a break. You have been working nonstop for ten years. Ever since - “

“Don’t,” Blaire snapped. She glanced at Layla’s hurt expression and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I was short with you. I just can’t afford to stop working - you know this.”

“I get it, Blaire, I really do. I just really don’t like seeing my best friend practically killing herself. Do you even remember the last time you took a break?” 

“Well, sure. It was…” Blaire paused and shook her head, “Well, in any case, I can’t afford one now.” 

Layla stared down at her martini and watched the liquid as it gently rocked back and forth against the sides of the glass as she moved it. “Blaire,” She said softly, “You can’t keep trying to make sure your mom stays afloat.” 

Blaire gritted her teeth and began to move away, “I have to take care of this customer.” 

Layla hopped off the stool and followed her friend down the bar. “Oh, come on Blaire! You know I’m right. She can’t always depend on you.” 

Blaire quickly turned towards Layla, “What would you have me do? Should I just stop giving her money? Should I just let her electric and water turn off? What about her rent? Should I just let her become homeless?” 

“She’s a big girl, Blaire. She has a job -” 

“Yeah, and six other mouths to feed in addition to her own. Her paycheck alone can’t support them all.”

“Neither can yours.” 

“I have multiple jobs, I can better support her and her family than she can.” 

“Her other family needs to stop being so damn lazy and selfish and help out. They’re the ones living with her - not you.” 

“She’s my mom.” 

“BLAIRE!” A loud voice boomed from behind the brunette and she cringed as she took notice of the crowd that she and Layla had attracted. 

Blaire slowly turned and shuffled closer to her boss, “Yes, Mr. Lewis?”  
“I have said your name, several times now and it took me practically screaming it for you to answer.” Mr. Lewis sighed, I suggest you and your friend take this argument of yours elsewhere. And please, don’t come back. I highly doubt that the customers will miss your...lack of service.” 

“Mr. Lewis, please, I need this job.” 

Mr. Lewis pinched the bridge of his nose, “This isn’t your first strike, Miss. Abbott. In fact, this isn’t even your third. I have given you multiple chances and this: loudly arguing with your friend while you should be serving drinks, is the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. I feel for you, but I’ve got a business to run.”

“But, I -” 

“No. I’m sorry, Miss. Abbott. You’re done here. Go home.”

Blaire hung her head and stifled the tears that she felt brimming around the edges of her eyes. She reached around her neck and untied the apron and quickly did the same to the tie around her waist, before handing it to her boss. “Come by the club at the end of the week to pick up your severance check.” 

Blaire nodded, numbly, “Okay. Thanks, Mr. Lewis” Blaire turned and made haste out of the bar. Once outside, she turned left and made her way to the bus stop, sitting on the empty bench when she arrived. She felt someone sit beside her and looked to see Layla holding out a cigarette to her. Blaire shook her head, never really caring for the habit. She watched as Layla lit the cigarette up and brought the unlit end to her mouth, taking a long drawl and exhaling smoke.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Layla. 

Blaire let out a humorless chuckle, “Me, too. I know that you have my best interests at heart. I know that my mom takes advantage of me, as does her other family, but even still...she’s my mom. And as much as I want to cut ties and be done with them, I just...can’t." Blaire let out a shaky breath as she continued, "She didn’t always used to be this way. Remember?” 

Layla nodded, “I do. Your mom used to be the coolest, but Blaire, that was a long time ago. When are you going to start living your life?” 

Blaire watched as their bus slowly pulled to a stop in front of them. Standing, she shrugged. The bus doors opened and she climbed the first two steps before turning to look at Layla, “I don’t know, perhaps when I’m in Hell.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who are continuing to read this story. Please excuse any grammatical issues as I'm sure there are plenty. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. Comments and kudos are always welcome. Enjoy!

Blaire woke the next morning with a hangover - her head pounding and nausea bubbling in her stomach. She and Layla made it to their shared apartment the night before and had quickly cleared out their alcohol stash. Groggily, she looked at the clock and saw that she only had a couple of more hours before her shift at the local inn began. Flopping back down onto her bed, Blaire tried to recall what had occurred when she and Layla became intoxicated. She remembered Layla begging for forgiveness, which Blaire quickly gave knowing that she was the only person in which she could rely on. She also remembered calling someone, but she couldn’t remember who. 

Reaching for her phone, Blaire went to view her recent call list and saw that her mother was the last person who she tried to contact. She clicked on the information to see how long the call lasted which read an hour and a half. Groaning, she quickly called her mom, hoping to find out what they had discussed.The phone rang once before it went to voicemail. Swallowing the sudden lump that formed, Blaire left a brief message asking her mom to give her a call back and then began to get ready for work. 

By the time Blaire arrived in the kitchen, she had already showered and dressed for her shift. She went to put on a pot of coffee and then peeked at her phone to see if her mom had tried to call her and frowned when she saw that she hadn’t. 

“Mornin,” Layla yawned as she scuffled into the kitchen. She went to the pot that had just finished brewing and poured herself a mug. Inhaling its scent, Layla brought the mug to her lips and whispered ‘thank God,’ before taking a sip. Looking over at her friend, she could tell that she was on edge and it had nothing to do with going into work with a hangover. “What’s up?” 

Blaire blinked at her phone before turning her attention to Layla. “Do you remember me calling mom last night.” 

Layla shook her head, “I don’t know how I ended up sleeping in the bathtub, much less if you called your mom. Why? What’s wrong.” 

Blaire let out a sigh, “I called her last night and we talked for over an hour, but when I tried to call her, she didn’t answer. Nor has she called me back.” 

“Maybe she’s busy and can’t talk to you right now.” Layla suggested with a glance at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. 

“Maybe,” Blaire replied, “But I just can’t shake this bad feeling.” 

“Well, we can try to call her again on our bus ride to work, which we need to get to if we are going to be on time.” 

Blaire nodded, “Yeah, okay.” She and Layla filled up their traveling mugs with the rest of the coffee, grabbed their bags, locked up their apartment, and then began to make their way towards their bus stop. Once on the bus, they found a couple of seats towards the middle and sat down and Blaire tried getting in touch with her mom again. 

The line rang a few times before finally there was an answer. “Hello? Mom?” Silence greeted Balire. “Mom? It’s me...Blaire. I wanted to talk to you about last night. I saw that I called you, but I don’t remember what was said. I didn’t say anything...rude to you, did I?”

A sigh was heard from the other end, “Blaire, I know that having me as your mom hasn’t been ideal -”

“What? Mom, listen, anything that I said last night I need you to forget about it. I had just lost my bartending job at the club and I was drunk. I didn’t mean any of it.” 

“Blaire, honey, yes you did. We have a tendency to say how we are really feeling when we are inebriated.”

“Mom, no, I -”

“Just let me talk for a minute, Blaire.” Blaire listened as her mom let out a shaky breath, “I have taken advantage of you a lot over these last six years and I am ashamed. You have helped me stay afloat and never got so much as a thank you. I should have never come to depend on you in the manner that I did, but I can’t change the past.” 

Blaire felt tears well up, “Mom, it’s okay, of course I needed to help you...you’re my mom.” 

“That’s right, I am your mom. I am not your child, I am not someone who you need to constantly be trying to take care of at such a young age. You have been helping me, you stepfather, and stepsiblings for far too long. You’re 26 and I have taken your youth away from you with my selfishness.

“You have every reason to feel upset with me, I deserved every word of what you said last night because it was beyond true.” Blaire’s mom sniffled after this and her voice shook as she said her next words, “But, even though they were true, they were still hurtful. I understand where you are coming from, but for right now...I think we need a break from one another. I love you, but I am going to try and focus on my family. You need to focus on living your life.” 

“Mom -” Blaire’s voice broke as tears slid down her cheeks.

“I love you, Blaire. Take care of yourself.” With that, Blaire’ mom hung up the phone leaving Blaire stunned. Layla, who had been watching Blaire with worried eyes, wrapped her in her arms trying to give comfort to her best friend. 

“Blaire, I am so sorry. I -” Layla wasn’t able to complete her sentence as a construction truck ran a red light and rammed into the side of their bus. 

When Blaire woke up, she was expecting to see the bright white lights of a hospital, but instead, she found herself staring into concerned amethyst eyes. “What -”

Those eyes were pushed away as a man with caramel hair and reddish-yellow (almost orange) eyes took their place. “Blaire! I am so happy that you have returned and that you brought a friend for us to play with.” 

“What? I’m sorry, I don’t -” 

“Do you not remember us?” A man with purple hair asked with a frown on his face. “I thought for sure that you would remember your truest friend.” 

Blaire heard a feminine voice scoff, “Truest friend? I’m her truest friend. Now, tell us, where in the hell are we?” Layla asked, scooting closer to Blaire. 

A man with blueish hair smirked at Layla before answering her, “I suppose introductions should be made first, including your new place of residence. Welcome to Hell.”


End file.
